Platonic
Warmth and understanding,
With nothing to assume,
Gentle like her yoga,
Dark eyes were shining too.
Disturbing my indifference,
She moved into the room
With understated presence,
And saturated mood.
She didn’t disregard me, but
Her walls were never down,
The wolves that she kept waiting
Always were around.
It’s better left platonic,
Precious, sacred piece of ground.
Copyright © James Fredholm | Year Posted 2015
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